


Painting Flowers

by starrywrite



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Crushes, Florist!Dan, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death (offscreen), Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Tattoo Artist!Phil, commitment issues, intimacy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 01:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3791413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywrite/pseuds/starrywrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU! Stereotypes insist that tattoo artists are usually terrifyingly intimidating with big muscles and thick accents. And then there’s Phil Lester: lanky, awkward, and ironically afraid of needles, yet arguably London’s finest tattoo artist and manager of the infamous Ink Poisoning. Despite the fact that Phil’s life is considered, by some, to be a bit unorthodox, there’s nothing in the world he’d change about it… except maybe he’d like someone to come home to other than his hairless cat, Dobby. But it goes without saying that after the catastrophe that was his last relationship, Phil can’t help but to cling to the safety net that is remaining single. </p><p>And then he meets Dan Howell, the budding florist who takes over the flower shop across the street and soon after becomes “the pastel flower prince of his heart” (as dubbed by Phil’s best mate Katie). Despite insisting that he feels no romantic attraction to the florist, Phil can’t deny that that needles aren’t the only thing that makes his heart race anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Painting Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> what’s that?? floRIST!DAN IS BACK???? COULD IT BE??? YES MY FRIENDS, IT IS TRUE - THE LOVE OF MY LIFE HAS RETURNED B) ((pls keep in mind that even though dan is a florist in this, this is not set in the same universe as IDYTLM!)) 
> 
> lil disclaimer: i’m not a tattoo artist or a florist (but i did do my research for this fic!!) so i apologize for any incorrect information!! 
> 
> ahh okay so this took literally a thousand years to complete but it’s FINALLY finished and i couldn’t be more happy with it so without further ado, i present “Painting Flowers” enjoy !!

The _buzz_ of Phil’s tattoo gun is barely heard over the twenty-seven year old chattering away excitedly to his client, the young woman who has been clutching the arm of her chair until her knuckles turned white for the past fifteen minutes. Her other hand lay turned up and Phil’s been working on shading the crescent moon on her wrist black as night.

“I’m not one to brag,” Phil tells her. “But this is coming out really well – I think you’re going to love the final outcome.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” she replies, a wide smile stretched across her face. Her eyes are wide with excitement, and she bites her lip and tenses up just a bit as he finishes up.

“And… _voila_!” Phil says, smiling proudly at his work as he turns off his tattoo gun. “What do you, think?”

She looks at her wrist and gasps a little, the smile on her face wider than ever, and Phil can’t help but to feel a strong sense of pride watching her reaction. “I love it!” she tells him. “Thank you so much!”

“That’s okay,” Phil tells her, grinning and feeling very pleased with himself.

“I knew getting you as my tattoo artist was a good idea,” she continues, her eyes glued to the crescent moon tattoo. “You’re brilliant!”

Phil blushes a bit, but he can’t pretend he’s never heard that before. Ink Poisoning is one of the most – if not _the most_ \- popular tattoo parlours in London, and over the years, Phil Lester has become one of the most highly recommended tattoo artists. He is not only a very talented artist, and well accredited, with a degree from the York University, he’s also very polite and charming. He always makes a point to engage with his customers, talk to them while he lines their tattoos to make sure that they aren’t nervous, and he does whatever he can to make sure that his customers are relaxed and comfortable. Word about Phil hasn’t stopped travelling and he still remains to be one of London’s finest tattoo artists, as well as the busiest employee at Ink Poisoning. But lucky enough, Phil also holds the title of manager, a position he was just recently promoted to, and he’s able to give himself days off whenever he’s feeling run down or creatively drained.

But despite being so critically acclaimed, Phil has been lucky enough to work with an incredible team of people who never harbor any jealousy over his popularity with the shop’s clients and are all the most wonderful bout of people he’s ever worked with – among them is his best mate Katie.

“So there’s a girl out front called Katie,” he tells the girl as he cleans up his things. “You can see her about paying –”

“Oi, Katie’s not here, mate,” a voice cuts in and Phil peeks around the corner at one of the other tattoo artists working alongside him.

“She’s not?” Phil raises an eyebrow in confusion; it’s not like Katie to be late to her shift, usually she’s rooted behind the register and charging customers for their tattoos or making appointments for upcoming tattoos to be done right on time. But true to what he’s been told, Katie isn’t there and Phil takes it upon himself to charge her for her tattoo and after she pays and leaves, Phil hangs out behind the register waiting for either Katie to come in and explain why she’s late, or his next client.

A few minutes later, the bell above the shop _‘dings’_ softly and Katie walks in, eyeliner smudged around her eyes and an overall perplexed look on her face.

“Everything alright?” Phil asks her, deciding not to bust her balls for being late upon seeing how utterly frazzled she is.

Katie looks at him with wide, sad eyes. “I was just across the street at Howell’s Flowers,” she explains. “Phil, Mrs. Howell passed away.”

Phil’s eyes widen in shock. “No,” is all he can say. Mrs. Howell is the elderly woman who runs the flower shop across the street from Ink Poisoning. She was like the neighborhood grandmother, always bringing fresh baked cookies and flowers to people – Phil and his employees were no exception to her random acts of kindness. She was such a joyful woman and the kindest person Phil has ever had the pleasure of meeting. His heart feels heavy in his chest hearing what Katiet’s news. He can’t believe it; sure, Mrs. Howell is old but he always thought she was healthy as a horse.

Katie runs her sleeve below her eyes, smudging her makeup some more. “I was walking to work when I saw her husband – he was locking up the shop and putting a ‘closed until further notice’ sign on the door. When I asked him what was going on, he told me that Mrs. Howell had a stroke last night and she passed away this morning.”

“Oh, god.” Phil places a hand over his chest in anguish, sorrow seeping into his bones. He can’t help but to feel as though he’s lost a family member right now. “What’s going to happen to the shop?” he asks.

Katie shrugs. “Mr. Howell said that their grandson is going to come down from Manchester once he’s finished uni to take over the shop,” she explains. “But until then the shop is going to be closed.”

Phil sighs a little and just whispers, “Wow,” in disbelief, unable to fathom how this happened. Howell’s Flowers was such a bright and beautiful place with a positive atmosphere and Phil always felt happy working across the street from such a nice place owned by lovely people. He doesn’t know what to think about working across from someone new now.

“I know my shift started, like, ten minutes ago,”Katiet says, cutting into his thoughts. “But can I clean myself up really quickly?”

“Yeah, of course,” Phil tells her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and giving it a little squeeze. Katie manages a small smile and she heads off to the bathroom. Phil sighs again, his eyes landing on the bouquet of sunflowers that Mrs. Howell had given in him celebration for his promotion. He feels a tug on his heartstrings as he looks at them, and he walks over the windowsill where he waters them and strokes the petals lovingly, a silent and final ode to Mrs. Howell.

* * *

The day finally comes to a close and Phil couldn’t be more thankful. The emotionally draining weight of finding out Mrs. Howell had passed away had been weighing down on his shoulders for hours now, and he’s so relieved to be home now.

He unlocks the front door to his flat and almost immediately, he’s greeted with a loud _meow_ , and the tiny pitter-pattering of four paws across hardwood floor fill the air. “Hey, buddy,” Phil kneels down to scratch behind the ears of his hairless Sphynx cat, Dobby, and the cat purrs happily, rubbing against Phil’s legs as he locks the door and walks inside. Dobby had been a blessing in Phil’s life since the moment he got him – having a cat allergy and living in a place where he wasn’t allowed to have a dog made for finding a companion quite difficult, until he was introduced to the world of Sphynx cats and since then, he’s never looked back. Now he has a pet that won’t make his throat close up while they cuddle in bed, and he couldn’t be happier.

Despite nearly tripping over Dobby as he walks into the kitchen to heat up a slice of yesterday’s pizza dinner, he loves having someone else in his flat with him. He’s never been fond of living alone; the walls tend to echo when you talk to yourself and it’s just the slightest bit pathetic. But now he has Dobby to talk to and even though he doesn’t answer back, he’s great company.

“You will not _believe_ the day I had, Dobby,” Phil tells him as he brings a plate of pizza and a glass of Ribena into the lounge, where Dobby is resting on the couch next to his Mac book. Phil’s nights often go like this – a quick fix dinner and laptop time before bed – and he’s not all too surprised that Dobby had picked up on the routine.

As he makes himself comfortable and starts to eat his pizza, he rings his mum while he waits for his laptop to boot up to tell her about his day and what happened to Mrs. Howell. Normally, he’d just tell Dobby, but the little shit has already begun to doze off in Phil’s lap, and Phil doesn’t have the heart to wake him.

 _“Phil, darling!”_ his mum always sounds happy to speak to him whenever he rings her, and Phil always smiles a bit wider when he talks to his mum.

“Hello, mum,” he greets her, then takes another bite of pizza while she speaks again. They exchange the typical how-are-you’s before Phil starts to tell her about Mrs. Howell’s passing, about Howell’s Flowers being closed for the time being, and about how The Howells’ grandson is going to come down to take over the shop once he finishes with uni.

 _“Their grandson, eh?”_ his mum asks, and Phil’s heart drops down into his stomach. Of course, out of everything he said, that’s the one thing she finds herself fixated on. _“I didn’t know the Howells’ had a grandson… he’s probably not too younger than you, you know.”_

“Mum,” Phil says tiredly, rubbing his temples with his free hand. “No.”

 _“I’m just making conversation, Phil, dear,”_ his mum insists.

“You’re trying to play matchmaker,” he replies. “Again.” His mum denies this, of course, but Phil is onto her. She’s been nagging him to start dating again for weeks now, despite having had the Worst Breakup of his Entire Life not too long ago (one year and six months ago, to be exact). Phil’s ex had betrayed and hurt him in the worst ways possible and Phil doesn’t think there should be a time frame on mending your heart. Why should he put himself out there again and risk being hurt all over again? He isn’t ready for that by any means, and he refuses to let his mum or anyone else in his life persuade him to start dating again until _he_ is a thousand percent ready.

 _“I’m just looking out for you, you know,”_ his mum says. _“You're twenty-seven, Philip, that’s about the time some people start settling down. And even if you don’t want to settle down right now, I don’t want you to wind up alone.”_

“I’m not alone, mum,” Phil insists. “I have you and dad, and Katie, and loads of other people in my life. And Dobby. I’ll never be alone.”

He tries to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that _alone_ and _lonely_ are two entirely different concepts. But his mum didn’t ask him if he’s lonely, so he refuses to think about that at all.

After chatting for a little bit longer, Phil’s phone call with his mum ends and he spends the rest of his evening curled up on his couch with Dobby, watching shows on Netflix until he can’t keep his eyes open a moment longer – the way almost all of his evening seem to go lately.

* * * 

The months go by, and the weather changes from crisp and cold to comfortably warm and Phil can walk to work again without risking frostbite, and the university kids are finally free.

Phil opens the shop at “stupid o’clock” dubbed by one of his employees, Carrie, who had been one of the unlucky few cursed with the morning shift – Phil’s least favorite shift of the day, if he’s being honest. It’s rare that they get customers before noon, yet Phil still insists on opening the shop early enough just in case someone surprises them and decides they want a tattoo. And it gives Phil a chance to get his shop together, he and everyone else working get to have breakfast and coffee together, and while he doesn’t like waking up early, he can’t deny that he really does love morning. Everything is so quiet and peaceful and the overall solitude of morning just helps him relax and think about the upcoming day.

Katie has joined him and the others this morning, and she hasn’t stopped glaring at him ever since they all met up outside of the shop. He almost tells her that it’s not his fault that she has to work so early – but then he remembers that it _is_ because he makes the schedules. Oops.

He mutters an apology to her when he catches her glaring at him from behind her coffee and offers her his sprinkle-y doughnut as a truce. She accepts it and all is forgiven. For now.

It’s nearing midday, and business is still slow – their first customer isn’t coming in for another hour now, and Katie and Phil have taken to entertaining themselves by watching what’s going on with Howell’s Flowers across the street. A van had pulled up a few minutes ago and Katie and Phil have decided to spy –“Not spy,” Katie had said. “Just observe.” – on the young man stepping out with an armful of potted plants.

“That’s got to be Mrs. Howell’s grandson,” Katie decides.

“You think so?” Phil asks, squinting as he looks across the street and vaguely wishing he had brought his classes with him to work today.

“No one else has shown up and he has a key,” Katie replies. She brushes her hair out of her face and says, “He’s cute, don’t you think?”

“I can barely see him,” Phil tells her, deciding to choose his words carefully. Katie can be just as bad as his mum sometimes; he knows she means well, but she won’t hesitate to try and hook him up with someone if she thinks Phil might be interested. 

“He’s pretty cute,” she continues. “Definitely tall, and a brunet.”

“Sounds like your type,” Phil says, but Katie shuts him down almost immediately. “You do realize we don’t even know his name,” he adds. “And it’s going to be rather hard for you to set me up with someone who I’m not even on a first name basis.”

“First of all, we know his last name so we’re already halfway there,” Katie replies. “And second of all, what makes you think I’m trying to set you up with him?”

“I know you,” is all Phil says in reply, and Katie just rolls her eyes but falls silent because she knows Phil is right.

“D’you wanna go across the street and say hi?” Katie asks a moment later.

“Wouldn’t that be a bit weird?” Phil asks. “I mean, he just got here –“

“Exactly,” Katie interrupts. “We can give him a nice welcome. After all, we’re technically, like, neighbors now.”

“I don’t know,” Phil says, feeling wary about this – not to mention he has a strong gut feeling that Katie is going to try to play matchmaker for him and he doesn’t want his first meeting with the new Howell florist to be utterly humiliating.

Katie huffs a little in defeat. “Fine then,” she says. “But _I’m_ going to go say hi.”

“Have fun,” Phil replies as Katie heads towards the door.

She stops before leaving, and then turns around, a smirk on her face that makes Phil feel very nervous. “But you know,” she tells him. “You not being there will definitely make sure I can say whatever I want about you to our new florist friend.”

Phil groans. “You do know that blackmail is illegal, right?”

“This is hardly even blackmail, Phil,” Katie says with a cheeky grin. She reaches out for Phil’s hand and pulls the reluctant tattoo artist out from behind the counter and out of the door, calling over her shoulder to everyone else that she and Phil are taking their lunch break.

“I hate you,” Phil says as he and Katie trek across the road to Howell’s Flowers.

“I know,” Katie says, obviously feeling very pleased with herself. They cross the street and the door to Howell’s flowers is propped open, and Katie convinces Phil that they should go inside.

“This is technically breaking and entering,” he whispers to her as they walk inside the shop.

“The door was open – we haven’t broken anything,” Katie insists. “So all we’re doing is entering.”

“I’m sure that’s still a crime,” Phil replies, looking around the inside of Howell’s Flowers. The shop looks a bit like a ghost town; what was once a colorful place full of life is now dimly lit and barren. It’s absolutely nothing like he remembered it to be.

“’Scuse me,” a voice says, and Katie and Phil nearly jump out of their skin. The younger man they had been spying on – _observing_ – outside walks in from the back room, and Phil can’t help but to stare at him. Katie was right – he is tall, just a smidge taller than he is, and his brunet hair is wildly wavy atop his head but if it isn’t the cutest thing Phil had ever seen. He diverts his attention elsewhere, not wanting to get caught staring, but before doing so he takes a moment to appreciate his wardrobe – the pastel yellow jumper over a pastel green button up and white jeans that Phil is amazed aren’t caked with dirt yet. But even covered in dirt, Phil still thinks he’d be cute.

“Hi,” he says with a thick southern accent that lets Phil know he’s probably lived here most of his life. “Sorry, but we aren’t open yet.”

“Oh, we aren’t customers,” Katie explains and Phil is thankful because he isn’t sure he can form words yet. “I’m Katie and this is Phil, we work at Ink Poisoning across the street.”

“Oh, my friends love that place,” he tells them with a bright smile. The dimples in his cheeks cave in as he grins, and Phil can’t help but to smile back.

“We just wanted to come say hello and sort of greet you, I guess,” Katie continues.

“We knew your grandparents,” Phil adds and when Dan turns his attention to him, Phil’s face feels hot. “They were really lovely people and the shop was so great – we’re happy that it’s is going to be up and running again.”

“Oh, well thank you,” the florist says, and he extends a hand to Phil. “I’m Dan, by the way. Dan Howell.”

“Phil,” he says as he shakes his hands, despite the fact that Katie had already introduced them both a minute ago.

“And thanks for coming over to say hi,” Dan adds. “That was quite neighborly of you both.”

“Well we are technically neighbors now,” Phil says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Dan glances at Phil, despite the fact that he’s shaking Katie’s hand, and he smiles a little. “Aren’t I lucky?” he says softly, and Phil’s face is _burning_.

“S – so,” Phil stutters a little and he clears his throat before continuing. “We actually can’t say very long, our lunch break is ending soon, but if you need any help getting the shop together I’ll be – we’ll be,” he quickly corrects himself and hopes that Katie doesn’t notice his slip of the tongue. “More than willing to help you get back on your feet.”

Dan looks around the mess currently overtaking the flower shop and says, “I may just take you up on that offer.”

Phil just smiles, and it isn’t until Katie says goodbye that he realizes he’s been standing there staring at Dan like a dope. He waves at him before turning on his heel and exiting the shop, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Well,” Katie says when they’re out of earshot. “If that wasn’t some top notch flirting, then I don’t know what was.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Phil says with an eye roll. “I was just being polite. I’m a very polite guy.” He holds open the door to Ink Poisoning for her as if he’s trying to prove his point. 

“Whatever you say, Lester,” Katie says as she walks inside. “But you gotta admit, he’s really cute, right?”

“I think…” Phil starts slowly, and he quickly looks at the appointment book on the front counter before he says, “I think I have a client waiting for me,” and with that he heads towards the back, not missing the way Katie rolls her eyes at him again.

* * * 

The next day is another slow day; Phil can count the number of clients he’s had on one hand, and to make matter worse, Katie isn’t coming in for another hour. Having to work without his best mate feels like some form of cruel and unusual punishment and he doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this fate.

He signs to himself, resting his chin in his hands as he gaze drifts out the front window. He people watches for a little while, until he notices Dan across the street struggling with a large bag of soil, or something similar. He tries to balance the bag on his hip, like a baby, and then unlock the door to Howell’s Flowers but something goes wrong and he ends up dropping the bag. Phil can’t help but to hope he’s better at handling babies than he is at handling products.

Phil bites his lip. Surely, Dan looks like he could use some help, and Phil is such a helpful person. He doesn’t see why him going across the street to lend Dan a hand would be such a problem. After all, it’s got nothing to do with how cute Dan his in his pastel pink jumper with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

Nope, not at all.

He clocks out for another early lunch break and puts Carrie in charge until he returns, and then casually heads across the street to Howell’s Flowers. Or, as casually as he can manage with is sweaty palms and racing heart.

“Hey,” Phil says as he walks up to Dan, who once again drops the bag of soil he’s trying to haul into the shop. The brunet kicks it in defeat before turning his attention on Phil.

“Oh, hey, you,” Dan says and Phil briefly ponders if he should find that greeting cute or if Dan just forgot his name. “Phil, right?” Okay, cute it is.

“Yeah,” Phil offers a smile, stuffing his sweaty hands in his pockets. “How are you?”

Dan shrugs a little. “Can’t complain,” he replies. “Just trying to get some stuff into the shop. Apparently my grandpa had it completely cleaned out when they shut it down a few months ago, so I need to restock and get it looking nice and pretty again.”

“About that actually,” Phil starts, and Dan looks at him curiously. “And if you’d like, I can help you get some things situated.”

“Oh, you don’t have to waste your entire lunch break helping me move empty flower pots inside,” Dan insists, his cheeks tinting a shade of pink that resembles his jumper. “Honestly, it’s really tedious work and it’s my fault for getting started so late –“

“Really,” Phil interrupts gently. “I don’t mind helping you. And besides, isn’t not as if business is booming today – I can spare an hour helping you out. No offense but,” Phil looks over at Dan’s truck full of things and then down to the bag of soil at Dan’s feet. “You’re not making much progress on your own.”

Dan bites his lip, hesitating for a second, and then murmurs, “Well, you’re not wrong about that.” Phil smiles a little and Dan sighs before saying, “Alright, if you insist,” he glances down at the offending bag of soil that Dan had been struggling with. “Grab that, will ya?”

“Can do,” Phil replies, and he reaches down for the bag and _holy fuck_ is it heavy, and Phil nearly topples over as he hoists it up over his shoulder. “You know,” he says to Dan. “If you could get that door unlocked, like, now, that would be really great.”

Dan chuckles a little but quickly gets the door to the shop open and he guides Phil inside, telling him to just put the bag down “wherever” because he’s going to need to devote a whole week to cleaning the place up anyway.

“Is that when you’re going to open the shop up again?” Phil asks, following Dan back outside to grab another bag of soil from the front seat of his truck. The two men struggle with not falling over as they carry them inside the shop. “After it’s all cleaned up?”

“That’s the plan,” Dan replies. “’Course, it’s not that easy – I have to get it up to code first, you know make sure no one’s going to get electrocuted , make sure it’s clean as can be. I probably even have to make sure my plans are up to some sort of code, like, prove they aren’t poisonous or anything. I’m not entirely sure; I have to look into it more.” Dan sighs heavily as he drops a bag of soil to the ground, quickly checking it for rips and tears. “Those are all the not-so-fun bits of owning a business.”

“Tell me about it,” Phil says, once again following Dan outside to his truck. “I just got promoted to manager at Ink Poisoning a little over a month ago, and there’s so much work involved that I didn’t even think about when I was just an employee.”

Dan’s eyes widen a little. “You’re the _manager_ at Ink Poisoning?” he asks in disbelief. “Dude, that’s so cool! How long have you been working there?”

“Oh gosh, yeah,” Phil tells him, picking up some ceramic plant pots from the bed of Dan’s truck. “A friend of my brother’s used to work there and he put in a good word for me, so I got to start working the summer before I started uni – even though I probably shouldn’t have, since I hardly had any experience as a tattoo artist. But the old manager really liked me, for some reason, and he always let me sit in while he gave tattoos and soon enough I just picked up the art of tattooing. I’ve been working there ever since, even while I was in uni, and then when my manager decided to retire, he promoted me.”

“That’s so cool,” Dan repeats, and he almost sounds a bit breathless. Phil sees the look of awe in his eyes and blushes a little.

“It’s a great job,” Phil says. “A lot of hard work, though. I’m always doing the books and making schedules – stuff like that. But I can’t see myself doing anything else.” The two of them are walking back outside again when Phil asks, “What about you? Did you always want to be a plant person?”

Dan chuckles a bit, softly, but Phil can hear it like the bass of a song that’s playing far too loud and it makes his chest vibrate. “I think the term you’re looking for is botanist,” he says. “And yes, thanks to my grandma, anyway. I grew up around plants and I’ve always wanted to own my own flower shop, just like my grandparents.”

“Is that what you’re in uni for?” Phil asks. “Botany?”

“Yes, and no,” Dan tells him. “I’ve taken a few courses about botany, but I’m a business major. Quite boring, if you ask me, the only thing worse than studying business is studying law, probably. But if it’s gotten me ready to take this place over.” He puts his hands on his hips as he looks around the shop and despite the fact that it looks nothing the way it used to, there’s a strong sense of pride in Dan’s smile as he says, “I’m more prepared to run this place than I ever have, and I can’t wait to bring it back to life.”

“Your grandma would be proud,” Phil tells him, not because he thinks that’s what Dan needs to hear, but because it’s true. Dan has a fire in his eyes and passion coursing through his veins. Even though he’s barely known Dan for two days, he knows that this is what he was destined to do. And it’s inspiring, honestly, it’s beautifully inspiring.

“Thank you,” Dan says sincerely, and his smile is so bright, Phil has to look away. They start chattering away once again as the two of them work on unloading Dan’s truck, and Phil is almost surprised at how easy it is to talk to Dan. With meeting new people, he’s usually awkward and quiet, but with Dan he just doesn’t shut up – thankfully, Dan doesn’t seem to mind as he bounces right back. Their conversation is flowing so easily that Phil ends up staying at the shop fifteen minutes past his lunch break.

“Damn it – I have to go,” he tells Dan, nearly dropping the plant pot he’s holding when he realizes the time. “I’m late; I should’ve been back fifteen minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you,” Dan starts to apologize, but Phil waves him off almost immediately.

“Don’t apologize, I actually liked moving bags of soil more than I thought I would,” he says, and then he cringes when he realizes how lame that sounded, but Dan blushes a little and maybe, just maybe, it was the right thing to say after all. “If you need any more help, I can always swing by after work.”

“Phil, you don’t need to spend every bit of your free time helping me,” Dan tells him. “Not when you’ve got a tattoo parlour to run and a cat to feed.”

Phil laughs, a bit too loud, and he blushes. “I don’t mind, Dan,” he tells him. He has to stop himself from saying something like _I like spending time with you_ because this is the first, and so far only, time they’ve spent together and if he said that after today, Dan might think he was a serial killer or something. And Phil doesn’t want him thinking that. At least, not after their first proper meeting. “I’ve really gotta run though,” he says and before he can think of another reason to stall, he rushes off across the street, vaguely hearing Dan call “Thanks again for all your help!” after him as he leaves Howell’s Flowers.

Despite the fact that it’s a short run from the flower shop to the tattoo parlour, Phil is damn near out of breath as he re-enters Ink Poisoning but he blames that on the fact that he’s been doing heavy lifting for over an hour. He takes a moment to catch his breath before he notices Can standing behind the register with a smirk on her face. “What?” he asks.

“I saw you across the street with the flower boy,” Katie says coyly.

Phil can feel his cheeks heating up. “I wasn’t – it didn’t _mean_ anything, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate,” he tells her. “I was just helping him get some things into the shop. I was being neighborly.”

“Hey, whatever you say, Phil,” is all Katie says and she wears that damn smirk on her face for the rest of the day, no matter how many times Phil tries to insist that he was just being a good neighbor. It really _didn’t_ mean anything; it’s not as though he likes Dan.

And it definitely doesn’t mean anything when he spends that night curled up in bed with Dobby, drawing several pages worth of sketches in his sketchbook of floral tattoo designs.

* * *

The next day, Phil goes over to Howell’s Flowers on his lunch break yet again, and the day after that, and the day after that as well until he starts spending all of his lunch breaks with Dan. It started off with him just wanting to follow through with helping him the first day, wanting to help him get on his feet one more time because surely Dan can take it from here.

But then it just became habitual. It became _routine_. It wasn’t as though he woke up and planed on going to Dan’s shop – it just sort of happens. Day after day, he just finds himself crossing the street instead of making his way to McDonalds for lunch.

Dan didn’t understand Phil’s generosity, at first – in fact, he asked him countless times why he chose to spend his lunch breaks with him instead of actually eating on his lunch break (Phil then begun to counter Dan’s argument by bringing lunch with him while he helped him get things together at the shop. He also started bringing lunch for Dan as well) – but soon enough, he became accustomed to having Phil around as well, and it all felt very familiar. It felt comfortable.

During his daily, hour and fifteen minute long visits with Dan, the two of them talked more and more about their personal lives, no longer just making conversation and genuinely getting to know each other. Phil learned that Dan spent summers with his grandparents where he learned the art of flowers growing and grooming. And, in turn, Dan learned that Phil had always been interested in art but didn’t consider becoming a tattoo artist until he began working at Ink Poisoning. Dan told Phil about his childhood dog Maggie, and Phil told Dan (more) about Dobby. 

Despite seeing each other pretty much every day, Dan and Phil never ran out of things to talk about. They continued to discover new things about each other, and new things they had in common. Phil was able to calm Dan down when he got stressed about the shop and Dan listened when Phil ranted about things going wrong at work. They balanced each other out, made each other smile and laugh.

His daily, hour and fifteen minute long visits with Dan were easily the best parts of Phil’s day.

Katie began growing suspicious, raising eyebrows whenever Phil disappeared across the street, and one day, she just flat out says it: “You like Dan, don’t you, Phil?”

Phil nearly drops the booklet he’s holding and he sputters, “Wh- what? What?”

“You like Dan,” Katie repeats smirking.

“I do not!” Phil insists.

“Then why do you spend every day with him?” she asks. “Doing manual labor, nevertheless, something you sure as hell do not do willingly.”

“I – I like him, but we’re just friends,” Phil insists, and Katie still looks skeptical. “He’s nice, and he’s funny, and I like spending time with him but that’s about as far as it goes concerning my relationship with Dan.”

Katie isn’t convinced, and deep down, neither is Phil.

* * *

To prove his point to Katie that Phil _does not_ have feelings for Dan, he doesn’t go over to Howell’s Flowers on his lunch break. Instead, however, Dan comes over to Ink Poisoning instead.

Phil’s eyes widen when Dan walks inside. The brunet is wearing another pastel pink jumper and black jeans today, instead of white, and Phil’s heart begins to race. A bouquet of yellow flowers are held tightly in his hand and he looks around for a moment before his eyes land on Phil, and he smiles.

“Hi!” he says, walking up to the front counter where Phil is rooted behind because his legs have suddenly forgotten how to do the walking thing.

“H – hi,” Phil says, hoping he doesn’t sound as confused as he feels. “What are you doing here? Not that I don’t want you here,” he quickly adds. “I – I was just about to head over to your shop actually.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here,” Dan tells him. “The shop is pretty much good to go; I need a guy to come and give me the okay, but I should be able to officially open it by the end of the week.”

“Dan, that’s amazing!” Phil says and he’s glad his legs has forgotten to work, because he nearly rushes to the over side of the counter to give Dan a hug and he doesn’t think he’s ready for hugs yet.

“I wouldn’t have gotten nearly this far without your help, you know,” Dan says and just when Phil is about to protest, Dan goes to hand him the flowers. “So these are for you. I was going to give you lilies but you have a cat and I know lilies are bad for cats, so I went with daffodils instead. I just wanted to thank you, because you were so nice and helped me out so much, and well, I’m a florist, and I don’t have much else to offer you.” He chuckles anxiously, handing Phil the bouquet.

Phil takes it slowly, cautiously, and he gives Dan a confused look. “I – wow,” is all he can say.

Dan’s cheeks begin to redden. “I – I could go back and trade the daffodils for a cactus or something,” he starts. “But - okay, you see the thing is, I don’t have a lot of cactuses so I just named all of them one day and then I accidentally got kind of emotionally attached to them, and I just wasn’t ready to let them go yet.” When Phil still doesn’t say anything, Dan’s face flushes a deep red color and he says. “I’m sorry, I probably just made things really weird, I can just go now –”

“Dan,” Phil interrupts gently, fondly stroking the petals of the daffodils. “Thank you, I love them.”

“You do?” Dan asks, almost as if he had been expecting Phil to say the exact opposite.

“They’re beautiful,” Phil says softly. “And it was really nice of you to give them to me.”

“That’s okay,” Dan says softly, his cheeks still red and Phil is sure his cheeks are red now too, and when he goes to put them in the vase the sunflowers used to be in, he nearly knocks it over. Dan rushes to help him pick it up and their hands brush lightly, just for a brief second. And Phil blushes for the rest of the day whenever he thinks about it.

* * *

“I don’t know what to do,” Phil moans, falling down onto his bed and bringing his hands up to cover his face. Dobby lets out a small _meow_ and he hops up on Phil’s bed, walking up to him. Phil rolls over onto his side to face him. “I mean, just because Dan smells really nice and laughs at all of my bad jokes, that doesn’t mean I like him, right?”

Dobby _meows_ again, and Phil just shakes his head and he, once again, lies on his back and covers his face with his hands. “Who am I kidding? Of course I like him – I just don’t _want_ to like him. No, scratch that, I _can’t_ like him.”

He removes his hands from his face and looks at Dobby. “I mean, it’s too much of a risk, you know? Liking someone again,” Phil shudders a little, the thought alone making him feel sick to his stomach. “All I’d be doing is making myself vulnerable and at risk of getting hurt all over again, and we know how well that worked out the last time, don’t we?”

Dobby purrs as Phil pets his back. “See, you understand!” Phil says to him. “No one else does; everyone else is just so concerned with me dating again. But what’s the point? Dating is tedious and terrifying, and after what happened last time, I don’t see why I should take a chance on anyone and put myself through something like that all over again.”

Dobby simply _meows_ loudly in response, and Phil sighs, scratching behind the cat’s ear. “You get me,” he says.

* * *

When Howell’s Flowers was open for business, Phil couldn’t deny that he was a bit bummed out about it. Sure, he was happy for Dan and he was happy that the shop was up and running again – but Howell’s Flowers being open meant that Phil technically didn’t have a reason to go spend his lunch breaks with Dan.

He supposes, in a way, this was for the best; after all, he’s the one who caught feelings against his will in the first place, and now he’s been given a chance to free himself from those feelings. It’s almost as if the universe is lending him a helping hand so he no longer has to worry about himself falling any further for Dan.

And yet here he is, sitting in his office and just _wishing_ he had a reason to pop over to the flower shop and see Dan. Even if it’s just for a second.

He groans, annoyed at himself. It’s truly pathetic – he spend weeks pining after Dan, then loathing himself for pining after Dan because he knows how that plays out and he’s not going to take that risk again. And then when he finally – finally – gets a chance to be free from his little crush and just get over it, he wants to be with him. To see him. To just be in his presence for a miniscule of a second and holy shit, he is so annoying right now. Crushes are so damn annoying.

He manages to hit the peak of pathetic when he comes up with a brilliant – pathetic, but brilliant – excuse to go over to Howell’s Flowers and see Dan. And it’s so obvious; he doesn’t know how he didn’t think of it an hour ago.

He’s going to buy some flowers.

It’s just crazy enough to work.

It takes him a moment to muster up the strength to actually follow through with his ingenious plan, but when he finally does, his chest feels tighter and tighter the closer he gets to the flower shop. So it truly does him no good that Howell’s Flowers is literally right across the street. But once again, as soon as he takes his lunch break, his shaky legs are taking him to Dan. To the flower shop, he corrects himself. He’s going for flowers, not to see Dan.

Howell’s Flowers looks beautiful, and Phil shouldn’t be surprised since he got an exclusive look at everything before the shop officially opened, yet walking into the shop takes Phil’s breath away. It looks just as good as it used to – _better_ even because Dan’s put his own personal touch on everything and there’s a little bit of him in every corner of this whole place, and Phil couldn’t be more proud if he tried. Seeing Dan take four walls of a vacant building and turn them into something that looks prettier than a painting is so awe-inspiring. And in this moment, standing in the shop and seeing everyone around him buying flowers – buying _Dan’s_ flowers – makes Phil so, so proud to be his friend. And even happier that the two of them are friends now in the first place.

Friends. Dan is a great friend; he’s not Katie, but he’s brilliant. And he’s lovely, and he listens, and he makes Phil laugh, and he’s just everything. The two of them get on so great, and Phil knows that he and Dan are better off as friends where neither of them can break each other’s hearts. _It’s better this way,_ he tells himself and he’ll keep telling himself this until he believes it.

“Hey, you,” Dan says when he notices Phil’s arrival. When he finishes up with a customer, he heads over to him and he looks so fucking cute. His hair is curly like it was on the day they first met and he’s wearing the pastel pink jumper that Phil really likes, and Phil’s heart feels like it’s doing somersaults in his chest. “What brings you here?” he asks, and Phil tries to remember how to breathe.

“Just- just browsing,” he replies.

“Oh,” is all Dan says for a moment, and Phil gets this vibe from him, that it’s as if he’d been expecting him to have another reason for coming over. “Well I was going to say I hope you find what you’re looking for, but you probably will seeing as you helped me set everything up,” he says and they both chuckle a little. A short silence follows and Dan stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Right, well, if you don’t need me- “

“Actually, I wanted to buy some flowers,” Phil cuts in quickly. “A bouquet, actually. And I don’t know much about shopping for flowers, so I was wondering if you could help me out?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Dan says with a cheeky grin, and he motions behind him to the Wonderful World of Flowers that is his shop. “So what are you looking for? Anything in particular – are these for anyone in particular?”

“Katie,” Phil replies, because she’s the first person he thought of.

“Katie, hmm?” Dan asks. There’s a change in his tone that makes Phil’s chest ache and he tries to ignore it. “Any reason, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Phil says the first thing he can think of, “Her birthday.” And then he adds, “I just wanted to get her something special, since she’s my best friend and all.” And he doesn’t exactly know why he felt the need to make sure Dan knew that he and Katie weren’t dating, but he did and this is definitely doing nothing to help Phil get over his little crush.

Dan smiles a little. Even the smallest of smiles are so bright and blinding that Phil has to look away. “That’s sweet,” he says. “Do you know what kind of flowers she likes?”

“Uh, not really,” Phil admits. He must sound like a rubbish friend, but to be honest, he’s more concerned with the fact that he knows Dan’s favorite flower (white roses) and not his best mate’s. So not only is he a rubbish friend, but he’s a rubbish lovestruck friend.

“Daisies are good birthday flowers,” Dan explains. “They represent youth, but also transformation. “

“I didn’t know daisies represented anything at all,” Phil admits as he pays for the bouquet.

“Well, then we clearly have not spent enough time together,” Dan says with a shy smirk, and Phil’s heart starts to race and something inside of him screams _run!_ , and so that’s what he does. He quickly says goodbye to Dan and then leaves the flower shop without a second word.

Across the street, Katie is taking her position behind the register when Phil walks in, hoping he doesn’t’ look as emotionally frazzled as he feels. “Those are pretty,” she says when she sees the daisies in Phil’s hands. “Did Dan give those to you?”

“No!” he replies quickly – a little too quickly. “No, actually I got these for you,” he tells her, handing her the daisies.

“For me?” Katiet repeats, confusion evident in her tone. “Well, thank you. And don’t get me wrong, I’m totally flattered, but why?”

“Why?” Phil repeats, his mouth feeling dry. He hadn’t anticipated this. “I got these for… “ he struggles with coming up with a decent and believable excuse and Katie is staring at him like she’s seeing right through his façade.. “For your… birthday – for your birthday!”

“My birthday,” Katie says, taking the flowers. She smirks a little and then asks, “My birthday last month, you mean?”

 _‘Crap’_ Phil thinks. “Yeah,” Phil says smoothly. “Better late than never, right?”

Katie rolls her eyes. “Okay, first of all, these flowers are beautiful so thank you again,” she says. “But second of all, I have been your friend since our first year of uni – so I think that entitles me to a bit of the truth, yeah?”

Phil feels himself break out into a nervous sweat. “What are you getting at, Katie?” he asks, not meeting her eyes.

“You like Dan,” she says. “And, now that the flower shop is up and running, you don’t have an excuse to go see him. Because you clearly can’t see him without some sort of hidden agenda.”

“That’s not –” Phil tries to protest, but Katie ignores him and continues.

“Phil, denial is not just a river in Egypt. And it’s obvious you just wanted a reason to see your favorite pastel flower prince.”

“My _what_?” Phil squawks.

“Don’t even deny it, Phil,” she continues. “You and I both know that Dan is totally the pastel flower prince of your heart.”

“You’re literally so ridiculous,” Phil says. “And this conversation is over.” Phil returns to his work, muttering something about a pastel flower prince under his breath. Honestly, how the hell does Katie come up with these things?

* * *

Once again, Phil hadn’t planned on this happening, but it just became habitual.

A few days later, Phil had gone over to Howell’s Flowers again and ended up buying azaleas for his sister in law, claiming it was her birthday was well, and then a small cactus for his brother, once again for a birthday that didn’t exactly happen yet. When Dan comments on how many people in his life have birthdays so close together, Phil then realizes that he needs to either stop buying flowers for no reason just to see Dan, or come up with better excuses.

So then he buys red roses for his parents’ anniversary, even though it’s not for another five months and then lilies for his grandmother, even though she’s allergic to flowers. And after he’s used every person he can think of as an excuse to buy flowers, he decides to buy some flowers for himself, claiming he wants to liven up his flat a little. (He totally disregards the fact that a) his flat is too small for an abundant amount of plants and b) Dobby is probably going to eat, and consequently kill, most of his plants anyway). He goes to Howell’s Flowers everyday for a week and Dan always assisted him in deciding on which plants to get for his flat, even when another employee offered to help Phil out, Dan insisted that he be the one to do it. Phil tries to stop himself from thinking about why Dan always insists on being the one to tend to his flowery needs. He manages to convince himself that it’s because they’re friends and Dan knows what he likes and what he’d want better than any of his employees do. He also manages to convince himself that it has nothing to do with Dan liking him at all. And then he tries to convince himself that he isn’t _loving_ all of this attention from Dan – keyword: tries.

Phil is falling harder and harder for Dan and he’s starting to think that Dan is falling for him too – he shouldn’t though, just like Phil shouldn’t be falling for him. Relationships are terrifying and painful and they either end with two people getting married or someone getting their heart completely shattered. And Phil has been on the shit end of that stick before and that is something he’s been avoiding experiencing again.

And it’s not just himself he’s looking out for; he doesn’t want Dan to get hurt either. While Dan could easily break his heart, Phil knows very well that he’s more than capable of hurting Dan as well. And Dan is beautiful and smart and lovely and wonderful and he doesn’t deserve to be hurt and Phil doesn’t want to hurt him at all. So it’s better to just keep Dan at a distance and that way neither of them will get hurt.

Too bad Phil is pretty shit at keeping Dan at a distance.

* * *

In his many, many, many instances of buying flowers for fake occasions and for his flat (which is now filled to the brim with far too many plants, and Dobby is enjoying his new midnight snacks every night. RIP Thor the Spider Plant), Phil finds himself completely fucked when he realizes that it’s the day of his mum’s birthday and he hasn’t gotten a thing for her.

He paces outside of the shop, realizing of the event when Katie reminds him that he’s supposed to leave early today, swearing under his breath. How could he have forgotten his mum’s birthday? How could it have slipped his mind? It’s the same day ever year, for fuck’s sake!

He checks the time on his phone; if he doesn’t leave soon, present or no present, he’s definitely going to be late to dinner and he hasn’t even showered or gotten changed yet. Phil groans to himself and tries to think of a quick fix present or at least a half decent excuse. He could always blame the mailman –

“Hey!”

Phil stops in his tracks and he sees Dan waving to him from across the street.

“You okay?” he calls to him. “You look stressed.”

“I am stressed, “Phil calls back and he quickly looks both ways before he crosses the street and walks over to Dan. Clearly, he’s too stressed to talk himself out of doing this.

“Everything okay?” Dan asks, a concerned look on his face as he knits his eyebrows together and Phil just wants to collapse into his arms and breathe him in because maybe that’ll make him feel better.

“It’s nothing,” he starts and then sighs a little. “Today’s my mum’s birthday and I completely forgot, and I have to meet my family for dinner tonight but I don’t have a present for her…” Phil trails off when he sees the look on Dan’s face. “What?” he asks, a suddenly feeling of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach.

Dan looks at him, suspicious. “You told me your mum’s birthday was last month,” he says and Phil’s blood runs cold. “Remember, when you came in and brought the yellow roses – you said yellow was her favorite color.”

“You remembered all that?” Phil asks, temporarily distracted from the fact that he had been caught in his lie.

Dan’s face goes pink. “I – you – that’s not the point,” he stutters and it’s so adorable Phil is once again distracted by the fact that he’s been called out on his bluff. “You lied to me,” Dan says and Phil’s heart aches at his tone; he sounds genuinely upset and Phil doesn’t blame him.

“I know,” Phil replies quietly. “And I’m sorry. I had a good reason – well, at the time I thought it was a good reason but now I realize it was kind of dumb. But whatever, I shouldn’t have lied to you and I really am so, so sorry, Dan.”

Dan doesn’t say anything for a moment and Phil’s heart feels like it may just burst out of his ribcage, he can’t remember feeling this anxious before. But after a few painfully slow seconds, Dan reaches in his pocket for the keys to the shop and he says, “Come with me if you want to live.”

And then Dan grabs his hand and leads him to the back of the shop, and Phil trips over his own two feet because he and Dan are _holding hands_ right now and Dan is apparently going to save his life, and Phil doesn’t know what the hell is going on but he knows that, no matter how hard he tries to deny it, he is so incredibly lucky to have Dan Howell in his life.

Dan leads Phil to the back of the shop, where he lets him in through a secret door that Phil has only seen once – the door to Dan’s office. “If this is going to work,” Dan tells him as he opens the door, a completely serious look on his face that makes Phil feel a little nervous. “You need to be quiet and for once, you can’t argue with me.”

“I don’t argue with you,” Phil insists.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Yes you do,” he says. “You’re so damn stubborn.”

“I am not!”

“You are so!”

“I’m n –“

“You do realize,” Dan interrupts. “That you’re literally arguing with me right now.”

Phil’s eyes harden into something resembling a glare. “Piss off,” he says and Dan giggles a little.

“Can do,” he replies and he detangles their fingers to disappear to the front of the shop while Phil waits in Dan’s office. A minute passes before Dan returns with about a two dozen pink carnations in his hands.

“Pink carnations signify a mother’s love,” Dan explains. “And as of today, they signify my love for you because they’re on the house.”

Phil feels a bit like throwing up at how casually Dan says he loves him – it’s friend-love, he knows that, but he still can’t help the bitter taste it leaves in his mouth. Despite that, he feels even more like throwing up because he really, really likes the way Dan’s voice sounds when it says _my love for you_.

“What?” he finally says because that’s the only thing he can think of saying.

Dan smiles a little. “These are for your mum,” he tells him, handing him the flowers. “No charge.”

“Dan, no,” Phil insists. “C’mon, let me pay you.”

“Nope, I’m not taking your money,” Dan says with a teasing smirk. “You just owe me your life, or whatever.”

“I really do,” Phil says looking down at the flowers. “They’re beautiful; my mum is going to love them.” He looks up at Dan, completely at a loss for words at the moment. “I don’t know how I can thank you,” he says.

Dan just shrugs. “What are friends for?” he asks. He nudges Phil gently. “Now go, I’m sure you’ve got a train to catch or something.”

Phil wants to grab Dan more than anything and pull him into the tightest embrace and kiss his dimples over and over again as a way of saying thank you, but he doesn’t. He does, however, spend the whole train journey up North thinking about it.

* * *

The next day, before his shift at Ink Poisoning starts, Phil heads over to Howell’s Flowers and looks inside for Howell himself.

“Hey, you,” Dan says when he spots him lurking in the doorway. Phil wishes Dan would stop saying that but he mostly wishes he would stop swooning so much whenever Dan said it.

“Hey,” Phil stuffs his hands into his pockets and walks over to him. “I can’t stay long, I’ve got work soon, but I really just wanted to thank you again for the flowers yesterday.”

“Phil, really, it’s no big deal,” Dan tells him. “Besides, I think you thanked me enough last night in the voicemail you left.” Dan smirks a little. “How much wine did you drink last night?”

“Shut up,” Phil says, blushing furiously. “Anyway, I just wanted to say, I have a proposition for you.”

Dan raises his eyebrow. “Kinky,” he says, and Phil blushes even more.

“Will you stop?” he whines.

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Dan snickers. “What’s your, uh, proposition?”

“Well, remember how you refused to let me pay for the flowers?” Phil asks and when Dan nods, he continues, “I thought of a way I can pay you back – a free tattoo.”

“Phil, you don’t have to – wait, what?” Dan’s eyes widen.

“How much would the flowers have cost me?” Phil asks. “You know, if you hadn’t been so insistent about me not paying.”

“I dunno, like thirty-something pounds?” Dan replies.

“Okay, so I can give you a tattoo of equal value,” Phil says. “Nothing too fancy, just something small and simple that probably won’t take me very long.”

“Phil, you really don’t have to,” Dan says and he sounds a bit nervous about all of this.

“I’m a good tattoo artist,” Phil reassures him. “I’ve been doing this for years.”

“I _know_ ,” Dan sighs. “But I just – I was kidding about the whole ‘you owe me your life now’ thing!”

“I know you were,” Phil says with an eye roll. “But I feel bad about not paying and now this way we’ll be even.”

“Friendship isn’t about being even,” Dan insists.

“Friendship also isn’t about one person giving more than the other,” Phil replies. He’s prepared to go back and forth with Dan for as long as it takes until Dan agrees to this. Maybe Dan was right; maybe he really is stubborn.

Dan sighs again, scratching the back of his head and he closes his eyes as he says, “Fine.”

Phil’s eyes widen. “Really?” he asks.

“Yes, really,” Dan says, like he’s trying to be annoyed about the fact that Phil technically won but Phil can see the little twitch of his lips, like he’s trying so hard not to smile.

“Brilliant!” Phil says. Admittedly, he’s a little too excited about this and they don’t finalize anything at the moment because he’s going to be late for work if he doesn’t run now. But at the end of the day as he’s closing up the shop, Dan walks in, tugging the sleeves of his pastel blue jumper over his hands and looking around anxiously for Phil.

“Hey,” Phil says, his voice soft from years of experience. Judging by his overall jittery appearance, Phil figures that this probably his first tattoo and he needs to make sure that Dan is as relaxed as possible starting now.

“Hey,” Dan offers a shaky smile. “Uh, I know you’re closing up, but this is the only time I could get here – I wanted to make sure you had as much time as possible and didn’t want you to feel rushed.” He wrings his hands together. “If – if you want, I can make a proper appointment and come back.”

“Oh no, this is fine,” Phil reassures him. “Easier to keep it off the record anyway, you know?” Dan nods, and Phil steps out from behind the counter. “So, if you’d like, you can have a look through here to see some of my sketches and other tattoos I’ve done – to give you an idea of what I’m capable of.” He hands Dan a thick book, similar to a photo album, and gestures to a small couch for customers to sit on while they wait their turn. “I will warn you though,” Phil says as Dan takes a seat with the book. “There are many varying art styles in that book, my newest stuff is in the front but if you go back too far you might see stuff from years ago that – in my opinion – looks pretty rubbish. “

“I’m sure they’re not,” Dan says, his voice still soft and a bit rough around the edges. When he opens the book and begins to look through Phil’s art, he suddenly feels a bit self conscious and he turns away.

“Would you like some tea?” he asks Dan. The tea was Katie’s idea – she said it was scientifically proven that tea helps calm your nerves, and Phil isn’t sure how true her fact was but he still thought it was a good idea.

“That’d be great, actually,” Dan glances up at him and smiles. “Thanks.”

While Phil makes Dan a cup of tea, he can hear Dan audibly gasping as he looks through the pages and pages of his art. He glances over his shoulder a couple of times to see Dan’s eyes with wonder and a wide smile stretched across his face. And Phil smiles a little, because his art is Dan Approved and while that shouldn’t mean so much to him, it kind of does. He rolls his shoulders back, hoping to relieve some tension and he straightens his spine as he walks over to Dan with his tea, hoping to appear calm, cool, and confident – after all, no one wants an anxious tattoo artist. “Here you go.”

“Phil, these are incredible!” Dan says, not looking up from the book in his lap as he takes the mug of tea. “They’re all so beautiful and amazing!”

Phil takes a peek at the page Dan’s currently fawning over – the floral sketches he had done ages ago when he and Dan had first met. “I had a feeling you’d like those,” he says with a smile and sits down next to Dan. “So, is a flower tattoo on the agenda today, or did you have something else in mind?”

“If I show you a picture of something, can you make that my tattoo?” Dan asks, closing the book and reaching for his phone.

“You underestimate be terribly, Dan,” Phil says teasingly.

“I’m just making sure!” Dan insists, laughing a little. “I’ve never done this before, you know.”

“I know,” Phil says gently, rubbing Dan’s shoulder and then almost immediately pulling his hand away. “Uh, so what’s the picture of?”

“Lavender,” Dan explains and he shows Phil the photo on his phone. Phil looks it over; it’s simple, a green stem with little purple buds along the top part of the stem. “I’d like it on my wrist,” Dan adds. “Think you can do it?”

“Again,” Phil smiles at him. “You underestimate me terribly, Dan.”

* * *

“So, why lavender?” Phil asks, putting on a pair of latex gloves. He had taken a moment to wash his hands first while Dan fidgeted anxiously in his seat, as if Phil was a doctor about to give him a prostate exam, or something equally as horrifying, instead of a tattoo.

“L – lavender is my birth flower,” Dan explains, his voice shaking a bit as Phil preps him for his tattoo, flinching the slightest bit while Phil cleans up his wrist.

“What’s a birth flower?” Phil asks. He takes a calligraphy pen off of his table and says to Dan, “I’m just going to do a few lines to make sure it’s going to look how you want it – no needles yet,” he adds with a smile and Dan sighs in relief. “So, birth flowers?” he asks as he begins to do the line work of Dan’s tattoo.

“They’re kind of like birthstones, but flowers,” Dan replies. “Every sign is assigned its own flower.”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool,” Phil tells him, and then he wonders aloud, “I wonder what mine is.”

“What’s your sign?” Dan asks him.

Phil raises an eyebrow. “Aquarius,” he says slowly. There’s no way Dan would know it off of the top of his head –

“Orchid,” Dan replies almost instantly and Phil’s jaw drops a little. “Your birth flower is an orchid.”

“You knew that without having to look it up?” he asks in disbelief.

Dan’s cheeks turn the same color pink as his pastel sweater that Phil likes so much. “Yeah,” he says, as if he’s embarrassed about it.

“That’s amazing,” Phil tells him. “Really – that’s like a hidden talent, much cooler than being able to solve a Rubik's cube.”

Dan rolls his eyes a little. “You’re such a nutter,” he tells him but he’s smiling and Phil takes that as a good sign.

The two of them fall silent after that and Phil hums to himself as he finishes doing the line work on Dan’s wrist. It’s a small tattoo, but there’s a fair amount of detail to it and Phil wants to make sure he gets it just the way Dan wants it.

“Alright,” he says when he finishes. “What do you think?”

Dan looks down at his wrist and breathes, “Wow,” and Phil smiles, taking that as a good sign. “It looks beautiful; you sure I can’t just walk out with it like this?” he asks jokingly.

Phil chuckles a bit. “Trust me, it’s going to look even better once I give it my magic touch,” he replies. Dan smiles shakily and Phil gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Okay,” Phil starts. “So it has to dry, but first I’m gonna outline it and then I’m gonna start the shading. Shouldn’t take more than half an hour, just because there’s a bit of detail in this. When you give me the ‘okay’ I’ll get started.”

Dan bites his lip. “Is – is it gonna hurt?” he asks softly, then blushes almost immediately after asking it.

“It depends,” Phil admits. “It’s gonna feel hot, that’s for sure. But your wrist is a pretty sensitive area, so you might feel some pain – it mostly depends on your pain tolerance though. Some people psych themselves up for a lot of pain and then find out that it was actually pretty underwhelming when they actually get the tattoo. Some people, like my friend Louise for example, cry the whole time and make you stop every five minutes.” Dan chuckles a little at that and Phil smiles. “So just try not to worry about it,” he tells him. “The more you stress about it, the more it’s going to hurt. “

“Okay,” Dan says and he squeezes the arm of his chair with his other hand tightly. He takes a breath and exhales slowly, and Phil waits patiently while he gets himself together. “You know,” he says softly a moment later. “There isn’t anyone else I’d want to lose my tattoo virginity to.”

Phil smiles. “Well, thank you for trusting me enough to take your tattoo virginity,” he says, and then he cringes a little because that was probably the weirdest thing he and Dan have ever said to each other. Dan’s face is redder than ever so he’s guessing that Dan is thinking the same thing as he is. “So,” Phil says, breaking the silence and making sure Dan’s wrist is now dry. “You ready?”

Dan swallows hard and squeezes his eyes shut. “Ready.”

Phil turns on his tattoo gun and Dan flinches a bit, and he says, “Just relax, okay. You can trust me, Dan, I’ve done this hundreds of times; I’m not going to give you a crappy tattoo.”

“I know that,” Dan mumbles in reply. “And I trust you, I just – I don’t like pain very much. Whatever just – just get started now before I change my mind.”

“That’s the spirit,” Phil says jokingly, and Dan grimaces a bit when Phil brings the needle to his wrist, inhaling a sharp breath. He closes his eyes, looking away almost immediately and Phil murmurs, “Be as still as you can, please,” not looking away as he begins the line work of Dan’s tattoo, working skillfully and with ease yet slowly and carefully. He’s done this hundreds of times and a tattoo like this he could probably do in his sleep.

Dan tenses up almost immediately. “Yeah, okay,” he whispers. His body is rigid but he manages to open one eye timidly to peek at Phil. “You must be immune to it by now, aren’t you? The pain, I mean.”

“A bit, yeah,” Phil offers a sheepish smile. “Funnily enough, I kind of like the way it feels now. The thing is, once you get one tattoo, you always want more. And that’s where it’s a bit unfortunate for me because I can either give myself a new one or have one of my friends do it.”

“How many do you have?” Dan asks.

“Thirteen,” Phil replies without hesitation. He hears Dan whispers “Wow,” and Phil doesn’t take his eyes off of Dan’s wrist as he outlines the stem of the lavender, but he smiles a little and says, “Hey, you know what’s funny?” Dan just hums in response and Phil continues, “I’m actually really afraid of needles.”

Dan opens both of his eyes this time, and he looks at Phil, a look of _what the fuck_ on his face, and Phil says, “It’s true, believe it or not. Whenever I’ve got to get a shot at the doctor’s, I need someone to come with me or I’m likely to pass out.”

“You’re afraid of needles?” Dan repeats, still clearly shocked and awed by Phil’s confession. “But you’re a tattoo artist; your profession revolves around needles.”

“I know, I know,” Phil laughs a little. “But it’s true. I’m tyrpanophobic.”

“That’s the most ironic thing I’ve heard in ages,” Dan says and Phil laughs a little again.

“It is pretty ironic,” he agrees. He glances up at Dan for a brief second and he grins before looking back down at his wrist, working diligently and effortlessly as he lines Dan’s tattoo. “You know, funny story,” he muses. “When I first started working here, I wanted nothing to do with the actual tattooing part; I just wanted to sketch some designs and let someone else do all the work. I was petrified of the needles and I never went anywhere near the back of the shop for months. Then one day, my brother and my old manager managed to talk me into getting my first tattoo – and let me tell you, I was scared shitless. I nearly ran out of the shop by the time he turned the needle on.” Dan laughs a little and Phil continues, “And I was getting it on my wrist too, just like you, and I had heard all sorts of horror stories about how bad it hurts. But I did it, I went through with it and it barely even hurt, but I was so proud of myself for doing it. Then a month later I got my second one on my other wrist, and before I knew it, I was a bit of a tattoo addict. Then I started learning how to give tattoos and I decided that I wanted to become a tattoo artist to try and get over my fear. “

“Did it work?” Dan asks.

“Yes and no,” Phil replies. “I still can’t convince myself to donate blood and I still get a bit woozy at the doctor’s office when I need to get a shot, but I’ve gotten better at dealing with it over the years. And I’m definitely not afraid to get tattoos anymore, but I’m sure that’s obvious.”

Dan smiles a little. “That’s really cool,” he says. “That you became a tattoo artist to get over your fear of needles, that’s pretty profound.”

“Thanks,” Phil says, blushing a little. “I will say though that even though getting my first tattoo was a step in the right direction for me, giving my first tattoo was horrifyingly stressful.”

“Who was the lucky victim?” Dan asks.

“Katie,” Phil replies. “She agreed to be my guinea pig, despite knowing that I’m all thumbs.”

“She’s a good friend,” Dan says. “No offense, but I don’t know if I’d be your first ever victim.”

“None taken,” Phil chuckles. “But it went really well; gave her a nice little cross on the side of her hand and it came out really well. Nothing too fancy, but I was so proud of myself.”

“You should’ve been,” Dan tells him. “That’s definitely something to be proud of.”

Phil smiles at him and when Dan smiles back, he has to look away almost immediately so he doesn’t risk mucking up his tattoo. Dan’s smile has always been a bit distracting.

Dan opens his mouth to say something but instead he gasps a little and hisses, “Fuck!”

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes. “I should’ve warned you I started on the shading already, that’s the part that usually hurts the most.”

“Wait, what?” Dan asks, looking at his wrist and sure enough, Phil is shading the stem of the lavender green, wiping away the excess ink as he goes, and he says, “I hadn’t even realized you were finished outlining it.”

Phil grins. “Yeah, I tend to talk to my clients while I work on their tattoos. Keeps them relaxed and it takes their mind off of what’s going on.” He chuckles a little. “You’ll never believe it though, but this one time, I was tattooing this girl’s back so she was lying on her stomach, obviously, and it was her first tattoo so I thought she’d be a bit nervous but she was listening to music and texting the entire time. I’ve never see a reaction like that.”

Dan chuckles. “She’s clearly not human,” he says. “Any more interesting tattoo stories?”

“Well, this one girl – she was getting her first tattoo on her back too,” Phil starts. “She had two friends with her and they were all getting pierced and tattooed together. And while this girl is getting her tattoo, one friend is holding one of her hands and the other is holding her other hand, and they looked like they actually were having a séance of sorts.” Dan and Phil laugh and Phil shakes his head fondly at the memory. “It was one of the funniest things I’ve seen. Oh, and she was getting a quote on her back and I was doing it backwards, but her friend hadn’t realized so she was like, ‘He’s almost done! He’s on the last word’ and she got so excited but I had to break the news to her than I was nowhere hear finished yet.”

“Good one,” Dan chuckles again. “So, riddle me this, what’s the worst tattoo experience you’ve ever had?”

“Oh boy,” Phil laughs a little. “Are you sure you want to hear _that_ story while I’m working on your tattoo?”

“What can I say, I live life on the edge,” Dan jokes. “C’mon tell me, I’m curious.” 

“Okay, okay,” Phil says, pausing for a moment to wipe up some of the ink on Dan’s wrist, before continuing, “So, once upon a time, I was in a relationship, uh, with this guy -”

“Oh, ho, this should be good,” Dan interrupts.

Phil rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he says with a little laugh. “So yeah, I’m dating this guy and _he’s_ dating another guy. You know, in addition to dating me as well.”

“Ouch,” Dan winces. “Not talking about the tattoo, by the way.”

Phil chuckles lightly. “I didn’t think so. Yeah, it was pretty brutal and it sucked finding out. But he had no idea that I knew his little secret, so I decided not to get mad, but to get even.”

“You?” Dan asks. “I had no idea you were capable of revenge, Philip.”

“Looks like you don’t know everything about me, Howell,” Phil smirks a little. “So I sit on this news for a few days because, you know, finding out your boyfriend of two years has been cheating on your for who knows how long is soul-destroying so in addition to weeping like a baby for a few days, I had to come up with the perfect reaction to this. And then it hits me.”

“Something tells me he shouldn’t have gotten on your bad side,” Dan muses.

“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” Phil replies. “So I talk my my ex into coming here one day and when he does, I say ‘hey, let’s get matching tattoos! After all, we’ve been together for a little over two years, and I can do it for free, so why not, right?’ And he agrees, don’t really know why honestly, but he does and I suggest we get a quote or something - just so I can do something in writing. Again, he agrees, so I get to work. Twenty minutes later, his bicep says ‘it’s over’ in black ink.”

Dan laughs so loud Phil nearly forgets that he was giving him a tattoo. “I was right, this was good,” he says. “What happened when he found out?”

“Well seeing as all of my friends work here, no one would fix his tattoo for him so he had to go out of town to get that done,” Phil replies. “It was totally out of character for me, and I’ll probably never do it again because I had so much guilt over it for days, but he got what he deserved.”

“Well, for what it’s worth I think he’s an idiot for treating you like that,” Dan murmurs, wincing a little as Phil shades his tattoo. “Ah, fuck, you were right this part does hurt.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it,” Phil tells him, choosing to ignore the first part of Dan’s statement. 

“I’m sure you say that to all of your clients,” Dan teases, and Phil laughs a bit. “Really though, it’s no wonder you’re one of the best tattoo artists in all of London,” he adds a moment later.

“Now _that’s_ a bit of a stretch,” Phil says.

“Nah, you’re just modest,” Dan replies. “People talk about you, Phil Lester. And I’ve never heard one bad thing about you.”

“People will say what they want,” Phil tells him. “But what matter is what you think, now that you know me.” And Phil glances up to meet Dan’s eyes and he quietly asks, “What _do_ you think?” and he wants to take it back almost as soon as the words leave his lips but Dan just smiles shyly at him, and once again Phil has to look away, but he can’ stop smiling when he hears Dan whisper his reply.

“I think you’re really amazing, Phil Lester.”

_Fuck._

* * *

“It’s fucking beautiful, Phil,” Dan says for about the fifth time since Phil has finished up his tattoo. Despite the fact that it’s currently wrapped in plastic and is a bit red around the edges, Dan is still looking at it like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. “I love it, I love it so much! Thank you!”

“That’s okay,” Phil laughs a little, his face flushing at Dan’s excitement. “So, remember, put some lotion on it tonight – unscented – and you should probably take some painkillers now or something, in case you feel achy later.

“Right, gotcha,” Dan says, not taking his eyes off of his tattoo. His smile is wider than ever, even his eyes are smiling right now too, and damn it, if it isn’t the sweetest, most adorable thing Phil has ever seen. _Dan_ is incredibly sweet and adorable, and he’s nice and funny and kind and overall the loveliest person Phil has ever met. And Phil really, really likes him. He didn’t plan on falling so hard for him, but he has. And he doesn’t know how to reverse the damage.

* * *

Phil can’t deal with this. “This” meaning Dan’s dimples and his rosy cheeks and his big, brown eyes and his loud hyena laugh and the way he always seems to have dirt under his nails and the way he always smells like roses and just _Dan_ in general. And in all honesty, he’d rather get a tattoo on his ankle – right on the bone – than have to cope with this crush of his. Honestly, that’d hurt a hell of a lot less.

Never mind the fact that Phil can’t stop thinking about Dan and he can’t even think about him without grinning from ear to ear, or the fact he holds his breath whenever they brush their hands together. Forget about the fact that it doesn’t matter how busy Ink Poisoning is, or how busy Howell’s Flowers is, even from all the way from across the street, Phil can spot Dan’s smile without even trying. And don’t even mention the fact that Phil is falling harder and harder for Dan with each passing day – those are the things that Phil just _wishes_ he didn’t have to deal with. The things that Phil wishes wouldn’t happen. 

He wishes Dan didn’t make his heart feel like it was doing flips in his chest, like his stomach had been invaded by bats – not butterflies, fucking bats, with big wings flapping around at top speed, like his ribcage was way too small to hold his heart inside of it.

He wishes he didn’t like Dan.

He’s hardly even said it aloud but just admitting it to himself has been so fucking hard to do. And it’s taken months for him to finally be able to come to his senses and realize that he can’t keep lying to himself. He likes Dan. He really, really likes Dan. And he hasn’t had romantic feelings for anyone for the longest time. And he’s scared. God, he’s so fucking scared. Relationships are terrifying, and Phil doesn’t know how to be intimate with anyone anymore because the last time he tired that, he got his heart pulled out of his chest, thrown to the pavement, and stomped on. And it might be ironic that a man covered in tattoos is terrified of commitment but all Phil has been good at lately is running away from anything and anyone that makes him _feel_ something. The worst part is, though, this time he doesn’t want to run away.

He likes Dan. Dan is a great guy, and he’s so sweet, and he likes Phil. And Phil is scared and doesn’t know what to do, so he does the only thing he knows how to do: he runs.

* * *

Phil’s flat is far too hot for an evening like tonight, where the temperatures are rising even after the sun has set and Dan Howell is sitting on his couch, eating Chinese takeaway with his cat in his lap.

Even now, Phil is struggling to figure out how they got here – sure, he and Dan’s friendship had been growing and the two of them have been getting closer over time, but this is still the first time Dan had come over to his flat and Phil feels like having a panic attack. He hasn’t decided if he means that in a good way or not, though. He was casual about it – “hey, I haven’t gotten any plans tonight, if you’re free d’you maybe wanna come over and hang out or something?” – and is still trying not to think about the way Dan’s face had lit up when Phil invited him over, the wide smile that stretched across his face and the eager way he bobbed his head up and down and said, “Of course! I’d love to.” And Phil can pretend that he didn’t spend an hour cleaning, and then another hour trying to figure out if Cookie Monster pajama trousers were _too_ casual for an evening that was a thousand percent intending to be causal in the first place, and then another twenty minutes talking to Katie on the phone about Dan coming over and how she squealed with excitement and how he freaked out about whether or not he should wear shorts tonight – but there’s no pretending because all of that and more happened. As much as he wants to pretend that this is just a night of two best buds hanging out together, it means more to him than he would ever dare to admit – _Dan_ means more to him than he would ever dare to admit – and that alone scares the shit out of them.

What may just be the worst part about all of this is that tonight is honestly the perfect scenario – Dan and Phil and Dobby and good food and a good movie on TV that neither of them are really paying attention to. It’s Phil’s dream come true but it also feels like some sort of nightmare and he can’t help but to feel like a frail leaf struggling not to fall apart during a thunderstorm. He wants to not care about this, about Dan; he wants to be emotionally detached again, he wants to go back to Day One, where Dan was just a pretty boy across the street and Phil didn’t think about snogging him on a damn near daily basis. He wants to go back to before, when his heart was a block of ice and no one’s pretty eyes or loud laugh could melt it.

“I really like that tattoo,” Dan says at some point during the evening. “You know, the one on your leg.” He points to a cartoony design of Dobby has been tattooed into his thigh. Phil tries not to think about how him noticing probably meant that Dan was staring at his legs – but if he was, then they’d be even because Dan’s wearing shorts as well tonight (this is actually the first time Phil’s seen him in something not pastel colored) and Phil can’t stop staring at _his_ thighs, and he’s sure his face is as red as can be and he can only hope and pray that he isn’t being obvious about it.

“Oh, thank you,” he replies, hoping his voice isn’t shaking too much. “I think it’s one of my favorites. Sometimes I even forget it’s there, since I don’t see it very often.”

“How long ago did you get that?” Dan asks, fighting to get an egg roll out of its packaging.

“’Bout six months ago,” Phil replies, and he reaches over to scratch behind Dobby’s ear. “It was the two year anniversary of when I had adopted him, so I wanted to commemorate the day.”

“That’s sweet,” Dan says with a grin.

“Katie did it actually,” Phil continues. “She’s great at portrait pieces.”

“Tell me about your other tattoos,” Dan prompts him, and he turns carefully, as he doesn’t want to wake Dobby who had decided to fall asleep in his lap, to face Phil. There’s a look of wistfulness on his face and Phil can hear in his tone that he’s genuinely curious and Phil can’t help but to oblige.

“Oh, uh, alright then,” Phil says shifting a little in his seat to face Dan as well. “I guess I’ll just start from the top and work my way down?” he murmurs, unsure as to why he feels so nervous now – Dan has seen most of his tattoos hundreds of times by now. But talking about them and telling him the stories behind each and every one just feels so intimate and personal, and Phil’s heart is definitely doing flips once again. Damn it, Howell.”

“This one,” he points to the cherry blossom half sleeve on his right bicep. “And this one,” he then points to the Totoro on his right forearm. “I got after I went to Japan for the first time, ever. I had wanted to go on holiday there since I was, like, twelve years old and I had been saving up to go for _ages_ , but then when I graduated from uni, my parents surprised me with plane tickets to Japan. I stayed for about two weeks and it was the best holiday I’d ever been on, and the best two weeks of my life. When I got home, I knew I wanted a tattoo to remember this trip by, but I couldn’t decide which one I wanted so I just got both.” He laughs a little, sheepishly. “Told you, tattoos are addicting.

“These,” next, Phil spreads his fingers on his left hand to show Dan the tattoos on his first three fingers. “Are my mum’s name, my dad’s name, and my brother’s name. Don’t really have a story behind these, to be honest; I’m just a family man, I guess. My family is really important to me and we’re pretty close, so it just seemed right to get these.

“This one,” Phil turns up his right arm to reveal the series of dots and stars along his wrist. “Is the first tattoo I’ve ever gotten – it’s the constellation for Aquarius, which is my sign. I’m not _that_ into astrology, honestly, but I really love space and I thought this was just perfect.

“And this one,” he, then, turns up his left arm to reveal a circle on his wrist with an arrow coming out of it and a small dot inside of the circle. “This is the symbol for Uranus, which is Aquarius ruling planet.” Phil blushes a bit. “Told you, I really love space. Sorry, I’m a bit of a nerd about it, honestly.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Dan says quickly, still smiling just as wide as he was when he asked Phil about his tattoos, and Phil exhales slowly. He doesn’t usually talk this much and he feels a bit winded after going on and on about his tattoos – and he isn’t even done yet. But knowing that Dan’s been listening to his every word without interruption is making Phil feels warm and fuzzy.

(He wishes he didn’t just use the term _warm and fuzzy_ to describe how Dan makes him feel, but he mostly wishes that Dan didn’t make him remember what it felt like to feel warm and fuzzy inside). 

“Nerds are cool,” Dan continues, snapping Phil out of his head and back to his living room. “I always thought that ‘nerd’ just meant ‘passionate.’” He smirks a little and then adds, “And something tells me, you’re very passionate, Phil Lester.”

Phil’s face feels hot and he stutters a little when he says, “Uh th – thanks. I think?” and Dan laughs a little, muttering something about him being cute when he’s embarrassed, and Phil tells him to shut up.

“I still have the rest of my left arm to show you,” Phil whines. “Stop distracting me with your words!”

Dan laughs again. “Okay, okay, sorry,” he says but Phil doesn’t think he is. “Tell me all about that clusterfuck on your arm, cutie.”

“Oh, my god,” Phil groans when Dan calls him a cutie; his flirting has truly gotten out of control and Phil can only take so much of it before he grabs Dan and kisses the hell out of him. He takes a second to get himself together before he pushes up the sleeve of his t-shirt to show off his half sleeve. “So, these are all in dedication to my favorite band in the entire world, Muse.”

Dan’s eyes widen. “I thought so!” he gasps excitedly. “Fuck – I knew I recognized the Origin of Symmetry album cover,” when he points to that tattoo his finger brushes against Phil’s skin and it feels like fire igniting in his bones and spreading rapidly throughout his entire body. “Shit, that’s so cool,” Dan sounds in awe as he looks at Phil’s tattoos. “They look incredible.”

“The 2nd Law,” Phil says pointing to one of the tattoos on his shoulder, starting from the top and working his way down throughout the pieces of album art inspired tattoos on his arm. “Origin of Symmetry – as you already pointed out, The Resistance, Hullabaloo, and Showbiz.”

“Amazing,” Dan breathes. “All of your tattoos – they’re so amazing.” He bites his lip as if there’s something more he wants to say but Phil looks away, pretending not notice.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You know,” Dan says after a moment of silence. “I’ve been wondering about all of your tattoos since we met. I don’t know why, I’ve always been too shy to ask about them – I guess because tattoos are really personal sometimes. But I’m glad you told me about them tonight.” He smiles and adds softly, “It means a lot to me.”

“That’s okay,” Phil says, his voice just as soft as Dan’s and it’s like the two of them are sharing secrets. Phil’s heart begins to race and he’s starting to wonder how unhealthy it is to have a heart that’s damn near constantly beating much faster than it should. He’ll be issuing Dan his medical bills should he wind up in A&E.

“There’s something else I’ve been wondering for a while too,” he continues, speaking slowly, hesitantly.

Phil bites his lip. “Yeah?”

Dan hesitates. “Remember when you came into the shop and told me you were getting flowers for your mum’s birthday? And then a while later it was _actually_ your mum’s birthday?”

Phil feels a ball of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach. “I – yeah, about that –“

“You said you had a good reason,” Dan continues. His hands are fumbling anxiously in his lap but his gaze lies on Phil. Dan wears his heart on his sleeve but right now there’s a strange combination of confidence and insecurity in his body language and for once, Phil can’t decipher how he’s feeling. “I was just wondering what that reason was?”

“I – ” Phil opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out and he finds himself unable to speak by the knowing tone in Dan’s voice, the way he asks the question in a way that implies he already knows the answer.

“I…” Phil repeats, trailing off yet again because he still can’t find the words to say _I lied about everything just so I could spend time with you, because I fancy you quite a bit_. Dan watches him carefully with wide eyes and cheeks as pink as roses, and he gently picks Dobby up from his lap, moving him to the floor before he inches closer to Phil. Their knees touch and Phil’s heart nearly stops.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Dan whispers. Brown meets blue and Phil finds that he can’t looks away from Dan no matter how hard he tries. Their knees are still touching. “You know, when you had said you had a good reason. I’ve been kind of coming up with my own conclusions, but I – ” he pauses, hesitating yet again. He swallows hard. “I just wanted to know the truth.”

Phil doesn’t bother trying to speak again – not yet at least. He knows that if he tries, the words are going to get stuck in his throat and he’s going to choke on them horribly. And the silence is killing Dan, he knows that, but it’s killing him too because for every moment he doesn’t say anything, his mind buzzes with conflicting thoughts and Phil’s brain feels like it’s about to short circuit.

“Phil,” is all Dan says a moment later and their knees are still touching as Dan inches forward just a bit and Phil bites his lip and swallows hard. He makes the mistake of glancing down at Dan’s mouth and for a brief moment, he has a flash of their lips pressed together and _god_ he wants that more than anything right now. He can’t help himself; he wants Dan to kiss him, he wants Dan to want him, he wants Dan. There’s no denying it any longer.

But when he realizes he’s about to get just what he wants, when Dan starts to lean in just slightly and Phil feels himself leaning towards him as well, he panics. It’s like a flip has been switched and Phil is in fight or flight mode with his feelings and he’s resorting to the only option he knows. 

Phil jumps up to his feet and Dan nearly falls forward, flat on his face, and Phil wants to apologize but he can’t. His head is spinning and all he can think about is kissing Dan but there’s a sinking feeling in his chest giving him déjà vu to the night he found out his ex had been cheating. And there are alarms going off in his head, screaming _run while you can!_ and _don’t let him hurt you!_ , and Phil just doesn’t want to get hurt again. He can’t get hurt again.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asks. He doesn’t sound angry; he sounds concerned. Worried. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, I thought –”

Phil knows what Dan thought. And he’s right. But Phil doesn’t want to hear him say the words – he can’t hear him say the words.

“I think you need to go,” Phil whispers.

“I – wait, what?” Dan sputters, and Phil gets up to his feet to go open the front door for him. “Phil, if I – I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –“

“Just go, _please_ ,” Phil says. He can’t look at Dan; he can’t bring himself to see the face matching the hurt and confusion that pierces his ears and makes him feel sick to his stomach.

“Phil…” Dan doesn’t say anything else, and it takes him a few seconds to get up and gather his things, but he leaves. He leaves without a second glance, without another word. He just leaves. And Phil shuts the door behind him and leans against it, closing his eyes and even though Dan’s the one who left tonight, Phil’s the one who’s running. He wishes he wasn’t so good at it.

* * *

Dan was going to break his heart. At least, that’s what Phil keeps telling himself as he lies awake in bed, staring at the unread text messages from Dan asking if he’s okay and apologizing for whatever it is that he did. Phil ends up having to put his phone on silent and turning it upside down because he doesn’t want to be reminded of tonight. If only he could stop thinking about it in the first place.

The scene plays over and over in his mind like a move – pause, rewind, play. pause, rewind, play. – and over and over again, he sees Dan’s face. And he thinks about what would’ve happened if he had let Dan kiss him, but he knows what would’ve happened.

Dan would’ve kissed it, and Phil would let his guard down. And if he would’ve let his guard down and kiss Dan, it would’ve been opening a can of worms because Phil would’ve gotten closer to him, and he would’ve allowed himself to be vulnerable. And Dan would’ve broken his heart. Dan would’ve hurt him. Made him cry. Ruin his self esteem and make him feel like he’s worth absolutely nothing. That’s how it would’ve played out.

Phil tells himself this for hours, desperate to convince him that he was right to reject Dan and that pushing him away was going to be good for him in the long run. But he can’t do it. He can’t convince himself of any of that. And he can’t stop thinking about Dan. He can’t stop missing Dan.

Dan was going to break his heart. But he didn’t. Instead, Phil broke his.

* * *

Phil anticipates never seeing Dan again. He stops texting him after a while and Phil doesn’t blame him, and Phil is too afraid to try and go across the street and explain to Dan why he freaked out last night. It’s just too complicated – _he_ is too complicated, and maybe Dan is just better off without him.

Katie peeks her head into his office; he had been holed up in there for hours, only leaving for appointments, not talking to anyone – except for Katie, but even she didn’t know the whole story. He was too embarrassed to tell her everything. “Hey,” she says, her voice soft and gentle but there’s a warning edge to her tone, and Phil sense impending doom. “Dan’s here,” she says next and Phil damn near stops breathing. He drops the pen he was holding, his jaw dropping a bit and he, once again, is rendered speechless. “He’s asking for you, but I didn’t know what to tell him.”

Phil swallows hard. “He’s here?” he asks, dumbfounded. “And he wants to…”

“Talk to you,” Katie finishes for him. Phil isn’t quite sure how Dan is going to talk to him when he can’t even manage to talk to Katie right now. “If you don’t want to, I can tell him to leave –”

“No,” Phil says quickly, then clears his throat. “Uh, no, th – that’s fine, I can talk to him.”

“You sure?” Katie asks and when Phil nods, she murmurs “Okay,” and when she disappears to get Dan, he feels like throwing up.

The feeling heightens when Dan walks into his office, shutting the door behind him, and Phil bites his lip anxiously. “Hi, Dan,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” Dan murmurs. He tugs on the sleeves of his pastel purple jumper, covering his hands, and Phil isn’t sure why but there are flowers in his curly hobbit hair and he just looks so, _so_ cute. Meanwhile, Phil’s sporting red rimmed baggy eyes, unwashed hair, and an old band t-shirt that he usually reserves for sleepwear. 

“I – um, I like the uh,” Phil motions to Dan’s flower crown.

Dan’s lips twitch into something trying to resemble a smile. “A bunch of students came to the shop on a school trip and they spent the afternoon making flower crowns,” he explains. His half assed smile falls a moment later. “’Course, you’d know that if you bothered to stop by. Or, you know, return one of my calls. Or my texts.”

Phil sighs a little; he should’ve known this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Look, I’m sorry, Phil,” Dan says and Phil raises an eyebrow in confusion. “I’m sorry if I took it too far last night, or if I interpreted something wrong – I didn’t mean to be so pushy, I just thought –” he sighs a little and says quietly, “I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you, Dan,” Phil says, his voice equally as quiet and he doesn’t dare look up to meet Dan’s eyes. “I like you a lot.”

“So, then what’s the problem?” Dan asks. “What happened last night, what did I do wrong?”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything wrong,” Phil tells him and he sighs a little to himself, rubbing his temples. He’s struggling with finding the right words to explain what’s going on inside of his head, but the more he tries to make sense of it for himself the more confused and ridiculous he feels.

“Then why did you tell me to leave last night?” Dan asks. “What’s going on with you, Phil?” he takes a couple of steps forward and takes a seat in the chair in front of Phil’s desk that’s usually reserved for performance reviews and meetings with the Ink Poisoning employees. “Phil, we’re friends – regardless of how we feel about each other, we’re friends first, and you can talk to me about anything, you know,” he tells him.

Phil groans a little, covering his face with his hands and he just mumbles, “You just don’t understand.”

“Then _make_ me understand, Phil!” Dan raises his voice just a little bit and there’s something kind of ironic about being yelled at by someone in a flower crown. “Please, just explain it to me because I’m not getting what the problem is – I like you, you like me, why does it have to be so complicated?”

“Because it’s not that simple, Dan!” Phil groans again and he smacks the top of his desk in frustration. “It will _never_ be that simple – you and I will never be simple! It will _always_ be complicated because that’s what relationships are; they’re complicated and they’re messy and someone always ends up getting hurt!”

“Phil –”

“That’s why I told you to leave last night,” Phil blurts out because Dan can say anything. “Because I knew if you and I would’ve gotten together, it just would’ve ended badly.”

Dan stares at him, a look of bewilderment on his face and it takes him a moment to be able to speak again, but when he can he says, “I – you – Phil, do you honestly think that I’d be _that_ shitty of a boyfriend that you can’t even give me a chance to prove you wrong?” He sounds confused and angry and hurt, and Phil can’t decide which of the three is worse.

“I – it’s not you,” Phil tries to explain. “But Dan, I just don’t _do_ relationships okay; not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” Dan repeats, and then he falls silent again but a look of realization washes over his face and his eyes widen. “Oh, my god,” he says, nodding to himself as he starts to piece it all together. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

“Him?” Phil repeats, confused. “Him, who?”

“Your ex!” Dan replies, venom dripping from his lips and Phil nearly flinches. “God – it all makes sense now. That’s why you kept stringing me along –”

“I wasn’t stringing you along!” Phil interrupts quickly.

“– because you’re not over him!” Dan continues as if Phil hadn’t spoken. He swears under his breath. “It all makes sense now, you aren’t over him, are you Phil?”

“What the hell? Of course I am!” Phil replies. He can’t believe Dan would even accuse him of that. “I – I haven’t even thought about him in ages.” Okay, that part is definitely a lie, but Phil doesn’t have any romantic feelings in the slightest towards his ex. That’s what he ‘not being over him’ would imply, right? That Phil still loves him or wants to get back together with him, both of which aren’t true whatsoever.

“Then why is it that he was the last relationship you’ve been in?” Dan asks. “And why is it that after that relationship in particular, do you think that relationships in general are bullshit?” Phil opens his mouth to say something but he finds himself nothing short of speechless and Dan says, “You aren’t over him Phil. Not by a long shot.”

“Okay, first of all,” Phil says when he finally can speak again. He gets up from behind his desk, and Dan gets up to his feet as well, and the two of them stand but a few inches apart from each other. “We may be friends,” he starts. “But you know nothing about my last relationship and you know _nothing_ about what it’s done to me.”

“Oh, I don’t know anything?” Dan asks. “I don’t know that you push people away, and you run and you hide, and you seem to believe this crazy notion that every relationship you’ll ever be in from now on will be doomed all because of him!”

“I don’t –”

“I’m not like that, Phil,” Dan says quickly, before Phil can get a word in edgewise. “I would never hurt you, I would never betray your trust, and I would never, ever break your heart. But you don’t realize that, do you?”

Phil sighs, a little annoyed but he isn’t sure if he’s more annoyed with Dan or with himself. “Dan, you just don’t u –“

“I understand,” Dan interrupts again. “That your last relationship may be over but you aren’t over it. And until you are, you will never be happy. “ Dan runs his hands through his hair, knocking his flower crown off and he holds it in his hands for a moment, looking down at it as he speaks, “As your friend, I really hope you realize that I want nothing other than for you to be happy. And I may not be the one who makes you happy, but I just want you to be happy because you deserve that. But Phil,” he sighs a little again and his voice is softer than before. “I have feelings too. And I know you need to figure some things out and if you need space, then that’s what I’ll give you.”

“Dan…” Phil whispers, because no, he doesn’t want space, he doesn’t want Dan to go.”

Dan clears his throat a little. “So when you figure out what you want, give me a call, okay?” he tells him, still not looking at him. He takes his flower crown and places it on top of Phil’s head, and he smiles sadly. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” he says, and this isn’t a break up because they were never together but it feels very much like a break up. And then Dan leaves and Phil feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. All he can do is stare, dumbfounded, at Dan’s retreating figure. And this time there’s an ache in his chest and his eyes feel warm, and this wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all. This wasn’t how he _wanted_ it to go at all. And he may be scared and his instincts may tell him to run far, far away but he knows that more than anything he wants Dan and he wants to _be with_ Dan. But he fucked up. He got scared. And he kept pushing him and pushing him away, and now Dan is gone and Phil realizes that this isn’t what he wanted. Not at all.

* * *

Phil lies face down on his bed and he can feel the tiny pitter patter of cat paws on his back, but he doesn’t make any effort to move. Dobby _meows_ loudly; Phil isn’t sure if he’s asking what’s wrong or just demanding attention but Phil still doesn’t move from his self declared zone of self pity. Dobby decides to join him and he lies down on Phil’s back, making himself comfortable there. 

He keeps replaying everything over and over in his mind, not just his last conversation with Dan but everything, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Part of him thinks that if he just never would’ve gone over to Howell’s Flower that day, all of this could’ve been avoided. Another part of him hates that he thought that in the first place. He shouldn’t be surprised though; Phil’s messed up. He isn’t like other people – he can’ just meet someone and accept the fact that he has feelings for them, he has to complicate everything for himself and damn near ruin his friendship with someone in the process. He can’t just go on dates or flirt or do anything like that without panicking and feeling afraid. He’s complicated, and distant, and he’s not sure what to do about it.

His phone rings, bringing him out of his head and back to reality, and he answers it with an unenthusiastic, “Hello?”

 _“Hey.”_ It’s Katie. Normally, Phil would feel comforted by her voice but today, nothing can comfort him. _“I just wanted to check up on you, since you didn’t come to work today.”_

“I’m fine,” he says with a sigh, wincing at the audible sound of ‘I’ve been lying in the same spot for hours feeling sorry for myself, and I have a terrible headache but I’m not sure if that’s from thinking way too much or because I haven’t had coffee today’.

He hears Katie sigh a little. _“Are you really fine, Phil?”_ she asks, her tone laced with concern. _“Is everything between you and Dan alright?”_

Dan. Just hearing his name is like a stab to Phil’s heart and now the ache in his chest is more prominent than before. It’s seeping into his bones, weighing him down and confining him to his mattress like a ball and chain. He closes his eyes and whispers, “Katie, I’ve messed everything up.”

 _“I’m sure that’s a bit of a stretch,”_ she tells him, always giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I pushed Dan away, I just kept pushing him away,” he tells her and as he starts to speak, the words flow much easier than he thought they would. “And now he’s gone. I pushed him so much that he just left and I’ve ruined everything.”

 _“Phil, you didn’t ruin everything, okay?”_ Katie tells him. _“Just talk to Dan, tell him about Travis –”_

“I did, though!” Phil cuts in almost immediately. “I told him all about Travis cheating and about the tattoo revenge, and then you know what he said? He accused me of not being over him? God, how ridiculous – me not over Travis?”

_“Phil – ”_

“I mean,” Phil continues. “Did he even listen to the part where I told him that he cheated on me and broke my heart and made me feel like shit? And then he’s just going to accuse me of not being over him?”

 _“Well, he’s not wrong, Phil,”_ Katie says before he can say anything else.

Phil’s jaw drops in shock and he sits up so fast, Dobby has to jump off of him to avoid falling. He makes a mental note to apologize to him for that later. “Excuse me?” he says.

 _“Phil, you and Travis broke up over a year and a half ago, and ever since then you’ve been petrified of getting close to anyone,”_ she explains to him.

“Well, sorry that me being cheated on had some lasting damage,” he snaps sulkily, knowing that Katie is not the person he should be getting angry with but he can’t help it; everyone seems to be able to read him much easier than he can read himself, and he hates that. Why is it that the answers are so obvious to everyone but not to him?

 _“I’m not saying that your grace period is coming to an end or anything, Phil,”_ Katie says carefully. _“I know your break up sucked and I know that you got hurt, but ever since then you’ve just kept everyone who ever tries to get close to you at a certain distance. And I know it’s not easy to hear, but Phil I’ve been watching you sabotaging every single one of your relationships just because you think every guy you meet is going to end up just like Travis.”_

“That’s not true!” Phil denies immediately.

 _“Oh, it’s not?”_ Katie asks him. _“Okay, what about the guy who came into Ink Poisoning for two weeks straight and flirted with you every single day. He asked you out to dinner and you told him no, and do you remember the excuse you gave me, Phil? About why you didn’t want to date him?”_

Phil remembers, but he keeps his mouth shut.

 _“You told me you wouldn’t go out to dinner with him because he liked cheese,”_ Katie says, filling the silence when he doesn’t reply. _“And you were worried that he would order a cheesy dinner, and that you make you sick and the whole night would be ruined, so essentially, you just saved the two of you from a really terrible evening.”_

“That’s still plausible,” Phil insists. “Cheee is so off putting – the smell, the texture –“

 _“Yeah, because the fact that he likes cheese and you don’t clearly meant the two of you were not compatible in the slightest.”_ Phil can practically see Katie rolling her eyes. _“Or, how about the guy who asked for your phone number after you gave him a tattoo, and you told him you didn’t have a phone. Or, what about –”_

_“Katie,” Phil interrupts. “What’s your point?”_

__“My point is that you keep running away from every guy who even glances at you because you’re worried that they’re going to end up like Travis, but they’re not all like Travis, honey.”_ Katie tells him. _“Dan is not like Travis.”__

_“You don’t even know, Dan,” he tries to tell her._

__“I may not know Dan as well as you do, but I know that he looks at you like you put the stars in the sky and I know that he really, really likes you Phil,”_ Katie replies. _“And I know that you really like him too. and I know that you’re afraid, but you can’t spend your entire life afraid of being in a relationship again.”__

_“I – I’m not afraid of anything,” Phil lies, his voice weak and giving away just how afraid he truly is. “And besides,” he adds. “How can we say that Dan isn’t like Travis when we didn’t even know that Travis was capable of being a serial cheater and a heartbreaker?”_

__“That’s the thing, isn’t it?”_ Katie says. “You don’t know. When we first met, you didn’t know a thing about me and I didn’t know anything about you. And look at us now, we’re best friends, but that never would’ve happened if you hadn’t taken a chance on me and gotten to know me and gotten closer to me. We would’ve be as close as we are right now, if you hadn’t taken a chance on me or if I hadn’t taken a chance on you.”_ she pauses for a moment. _“So, yeah, maybe you don’t know that Dan isn’t going to be a piece of shit like Travis, but the thing is some people are worth taking a chance on. So now it’s just up to you to decide if Dan is worth it.”_

“I’m scared,” Phil whispers, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “I – I really like him, Katie. I haven’t liked anyone this much since Travis and –”

 _“You can’t keep comparing everyone to Travis, Phil,”_ Katie says gently. _“Dan could truly be the pastel flower prince of your heart, ready to sweep you off of your feet and whisk you away to a castle and live happily ever after with him, but you’ll never know unless you realize that not everyone you meet is going to treat you the way you were treated in the past. I know that’s not an easy realization to come to, but you just have to keep telling yourself that – you can’t keep holding yourself back or pushing people away just because you’re scared, that’s no way to live.”_

Phil doesn’t say anything, the words keep getting caught in his throat and he can’t swallow them down. His mind is buzzing, considering everything Katiet had said, everything she told him.

She breaks the silence and tells him, _“You deserve to be happy, Phil. I don’t know if you believe that or not, but you do. But you’re never going to be happy if you keep doing this to yourself.”_

And that’s the second time in twenty-four hours that Phil’s been told that and he kind of feels like crying because deep down knows that it’s true – he knows all of it is true; the way he sabotages all of his relationships, the way he compares everyone to his ex, the way he runs away as soon as he starts to feel something for anyone. Maybe he’s known it all along but he’s never wanted to admit it to himself because he didn’t _want_ it to be true.

“So what do I do?” he asks her.

 _“What is your heart telling you?”_ Katie asks in reply and the both of them know exactly how cheesy it is, but given the situation, they let it slide.

“I don’t know,” Phil says, and then he adds quieter, “I haven’t really been listening to it lately.”

 _“Give it a try,”_ she tells him. _“You never know, it might say something worth listening to.”_

Phil sighs a little to himself, and after thanking Katie for helping him and saying goodbye, he ends their call and lays back down onto his bed. He closes his eyes and puts his hand over his chest, trying as hard as he can to give Katie’s advice a chance and listen to what his heart has to say. He hears it loud and clear, and he isn’t that surprised by what is has to say.

Now it’s all just a matter of if he’s brave enough to listen or not.

* * *

Phil stands on the pavement outside of Howell’s Flowers, staring anxiously inside. Dan hasn’t noticed him yet, he’s been frittering about inside of the shop talking to customers and tending to flowers and Phil is going to need his undivided attention for this. Whatever _this_ is going to end up being, that is.

About ten minutes later, Dan finally glances up and sees him standing there and the look on his face is damn near comical, but Phil can’t really bring himself to laugh. He waves at him and Dan slowly waves back, confused and hesitant. He talks to someone behind the register for a second before he takes his apron off and starts towards the front of the shop. Phil rolls his shoulders back, hoping to relieve some tension, and he keeps his feet planted firmly on the ground just in case he changes his mind and tries to run away again.

 _‘No more running,’_ he tells himself as Dan walks out of the shop. _‘Not this time, not anymore.’_

“Hey,” Dan says, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey,” Phil awkwardly waves at him again and then stuffs his hands in his pockets to try and control his awkward mannerisms. “I – uh, I wanted to talk to you? If that’s okay,”

“Yeah,” Dan says quickly. “I mean, yeah, ‘course we can.” He runs his fingers through his hair anxiously and he motions to a bench outside of the shop they can sit on.

Phil follows Dan’s lead and sits down with him, his body stiff and rigid like he’s having dinner with the Queen, and he keeps his eyes glued to his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry,” is the first thing that he says. “You were right, I was stringing you along – I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to hurt you; I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just,” he trails off, sighing again.

He can feel Dan’s gaze on him but he still can’t bring himself to look at him. “It’s okay,” Dan says.

“No, it’s not,” Phil insists. “I – I like you, Dan,” he tells him, his voice barely above a whisper. The words taste funny on his lips, but saying it aloud for the first time feels liberating. He feels a rush of adrenaline and euphoria and terror as he says the words, and he says it again, “I really like you, Dan. You’re the first person I’ve liked ever since,” he trails off again and Dan picks up where he left off.

“You ex,” Dan finishes.

Phil nods. “He broke my heart,” he says softly. “He really, really hurt me and I – I haven’t been the same ever since.” He pauses for a moment. “You were right, I’m not over him. I don’t – I don’t want to get back together with him, god not at all. But ever since we broke up –” Phil sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. “I thought the tattoo thing was enough for me, but apparently that wasn’t the closure I needed.”

“You know,” Dan speaks up after a moment of silence. “When you told me about your ex and what he did to you, I never expected you to just drop everything and want to be with me. And if you don’t want to –”

“No, I do want to,” Phil cuts in quickly.

Dan blushes a little. “Well, as much as I like you Phil Lester, I am prepared to wait,” he says to him. Phil notices his hands twitching a little and after a moment of hesitation, he reaches out and takes Phil’s hand. Their fingers laced together and not even the thrill of getting a new tattoo could compare to holding Dan Howell’s hand. “You’re worth waiting for,” Dan says softly.

Phil finally looks up at him and when their eyes meet, he wants nothing more than to just grab the sides of Dan’s face and kiss him. But even as much as he wants to do that, he’s still terrified and it took him _this_ long just to hold his hand, so taking it slow is just what he needs to do right now.

“I’m going to warn you,” he says to Dan. “I don’t know how good I’m going to be at this whole relationship thing. It’s been a while, and I –”

“We’ll take it slow,” Dan tells him. “Perhaps at the speed of coffee tomorrow morning? You and me?”

Phil’s face flushes a bit and his cheeks feel hot and his heart is pounding, but for once, he doesn’t feel like running. Not this time. “That sounds great, actually,” he says.

Dan smiles so wide when Phil says that and not even him biting his lip could contain the joy on his face. “Really?” he asks.

“How’s half past nine, sound?” Phil asks him.

“Sounds early as fuck,” Dan replies and Phil laughs a little at his blunt honesty. “But you’re worth it,” he adds and Phil is sure that his face is redder than ever. “So, it’s a date?” Dan asks him, a shy smile inching its way across his face yet again. 

And Phil’s heart hasn’t stopped racing but in a strange way, it feels good. Exhilarating. It’s the same kind of rush he felt when he got his first tattoo, when he faced his fear of needles head on and came out feeling victorious and powerful. That’s how he feels now, like he’s staring his greatest fear right in the eye, and for the first time ever, he doesn’t feel so afraid.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by [this amazing piece of art](http://crivaiir.tumblr.com/post/112848453143/pls-a-florist-tattoo-au-where-phils-the) drawn by crivaiir on tumblr!!
> 
> and check out the [incredibly beautiful art for this fic](http://dostmotherknowyou.tumblr.com/post/116898266300/i-was-inspired-by-hashtagfeelsplosion-to-draw) drawn by the beautiful kip (dostmotherknowyou on tumblr) <3


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